Defining Moments
by Victor Wizard Half-Blood Spy
Summary: A oneshot chronicling Cato's time before the Games till his death, fleshing out his feelings and his ideals, showing that this typical villain is not actually as inhuman as he seems to be. Written for the Caesar's Palace Forum's July Oneshot Challenge, "This is War"


Disclaimer: I do not own the Hunger Games, nor do I make any money from this fic. All characters you recognize are Suzanne Collins'. If you don't recognize them, they're mine

Defining Moments

1. When he volunteered, it was out of desperation. It was his last chance to make a name for himself, to not resign himself to a life of misery as a Peacekeeper, or something else just as useless. The internal battle between murdering and pride raged on inside him.

2. He had made up his mind by Reaping Day, though, and he stepped up without hesitation, saying loudly and proudly, "Cato Censorius," when the escort asked him his name. Later, hoping that his competition would be someone he didn't know, someone he could detach from, he watched in dismay as _that girl_ stepped out of the crowd.

3. When his parents came to say their final goodbyes, his father said nothing the entire time, uncharacteristically. His mother cried, which was to be expected, but his little sister was the surprise. She held him and talked to him, told him her dreams of being an architect, her hopes of having a son who would be "Just like his uncle," her yearning for a friend, a real friend. It was this that surprised him most. In thirteen years he had never realized that she didn't have a friend.

4. During training, he made every effort to look as brutal as he could, as ruthless and as terrible as possible, even though he knew that Marvel wielded a sword better than he did, that Clove was faster, that the boy from Twelve was stronger. He did it because he was at war. He was at war against everyone. He was at war against the girl from Eleven who reminded him so much of his sister, a girl who looked like such a _good _girl. He was at war against that boy from Four, the one who had the smile that didn't reach his eyes, who smirked and only let his friendly façade fall once: when he was making fun of that little girl. He was even at was with Clove, the only girl that he had ever thought could beat him, and the only girl he had ever loved.

5. When his training score was revealed, Cato felt proud, as he should have. He had worked his entire life to reach that moment. A ten was perhaps the best score that would be given, he felt, until the girl from Twelve, that small scrawny girl, scored an eleven. For the first time since Cato arrived in the Capitol, he felt angry. He felt like he could kill without prompting. Afterwards, the thought left him locked in his room for all his free time before the arena, contemplating exactly what he was going to do.

6. During his interview, he kept up his aggressive demeanor. He didn't let it down for fear of showing that he actually was scared, that he had an inkling of a doubt that he may not come out of that arena alive. The more vicious he seemed, the more sponsors he would get, and the more sponsors he got, the larger the chance of staying alive. And staying alive was what he wanted. So that he could see that nephew who would be so much like his uncle.

7. When he was in the tube, about to be launched into the arena, he said a quick, earnest prayer, perhaps the first one he had said and actually meant. He did it because he knows that he could use all the help he could get out there.

8. When the clock was ticking, he looked to both his right and his left, in front and behind, taking in everything he saw. He saw the girl from Eleven getting ready to run away, into the forest behind them. He saw the girl from Six getting ready to run into the fray, getting ready to be one of the victims of the bloodbath. With the gong tolling, he rushed straight into the fray. He forgot his emotions and his ideals, and became the thing that he struggled so much with being. He became a machine, responding mechanically, quickly, his limbs moving, his sword slashing, without conscious thought. So when the boy from Four appeared with his back to him, getting ready to kill the boy from Eleven, Cato didn't even think. He swung. The evil fall along with the good in this world.

9. The first night after the Bloodbath, he hardly spoke. When he did, after killing the girl from Nine, his voice was scratchy, giving away more feelings than he wanted to. She had seemed like a good girl. No one could have known his true feelings, though. Any sign of being unsure would have been someone else's profit.

10. When they found Twelve in her tree, he felt that same feeling of anger that he had felt when she had beaten his Training Score. When she dropped the Tracker Jacker nest on them he had been bitten, once, twice, three times before he had gotten away, hitching Clove over his back in a fireman carry. District Two would have a Victor, he decided then. And when the boy from Twelve saved his girlfriend's life, and Cato tried to kill him out of anger, Cato reflected on what lengths he would go through to save Clove's life, before he had to kill her himself.

11. When the supplies were blown up, Cato really lost his temper, truly taking his rage into hand for the first time in the Games. He killed the boy from Three with his bare hands, and he felt so much power. This was when Cato's idea of the Games changed from a necessary war, where the good fell along with the bad, to something fun, something exhilarating, something that he could do again, and again, and again.

13. When Marvel didn't come back from the forest, and Cato and Clove were left the two remaining Careers, it seemed certain that District Two would have a Victor that year.

14. When Claudius Templesmith announced that both Cato and Clove would be able to come home that year, Cato did something he never had the nerve to do before, no matter that he was outwardly the strongest, the bravest, the Capitol's favored tribute. He took Clove's face in his hands, and kissed her, hoping against hope that she would kiss him back. She did.

15. The next time Templesmith spoke, to announce the feast, Cato and Clove were both desperately in need of one thing: food. So they worked out a plan on how they would get their feast. Clove, who was faster, would go to get the bag, and Cato would cover her from farther away. The plan would work, they hoped, Clove would get the things, perhaps kill a few tributes, and they would go home together, hand in hand.

16. When Cato knelt down beside Clove's inert body, watching as Eleven got away with two bags, and as Twelve got away with hers, he cried. He cried for the loss of Clove's life, but also for the imminent loss of his own. How would he survive without food? For the first time in the Games, with only five tributes left, Cato went out by himself with the express purpose of murder.

17. When he killed Thresh, he stood over him for a while, wondering what would be the most appropriate farewell to the boy who had thwarted him, who had killed the one girl he had loved, but earned his grudging respect for not letting his standards fall, like his own had. He just leaned over, closed his eyes, and walked away.

18. When the parachute landed at his feet, his heart leapt, wondering what his sponsors had gifted him. And when he pulled out the golden body armor, he grinned, and slipped into it, saying, as had become his custom, a quick thank you to the man in the sky. His smile didn't drop until he heard the mutts, those disgusting wolves, closing in behind him.

19. At the top of the Cornucopia, with the boy from Twelve clutched in his arms, threatening to fall off the horn with him, taking both of them to the grave, he finally confessed his doubts, staring into the face of his death in the form of an arrow. "Go on! Shoot, and we both go down and you win. Go on. I'm dead anyway. I always was, right? I couldn't tell that until now." And when he fell, screaming, with an arrow, that same arrow, stuck in his hand, he said his last goodbyes, to his sister, to his unborn nephew, to his mother, to his father. He was leaving.

20. But even after he had fallen, after the mutts had ravaged his body through his armor, after all that he had been through, his body did not let him die, even though his soul screamed for it. The mutts that looked so much like the Tributes he had seen die. The girl from Eleven, the boy from Four, the girl from Nine, both the good and the evil surrounded him. Looking up at the two star-crossed lovers from Twelve, Cato said one thing: "Please…" Death flew swiftly threw the air.

AN: A great big thanks to my beta, ChaosandMayhem! She's awesome, so go check out her stories, all. Also, this story was written for the Caesar's Palace Forum's July Oneshot Challenge.


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